<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408679" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mount Bukaroo</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Only one old post is standing -- <br> Solid yet, but only one -- <br>Where the milking, and the branding, <br> And the slaughtering were done. <br>Later years have brought dejection, <br> Care, and sorrow; but we knew <br>Happy days on that selection <br> Underneath old Bukaroo. <br> <br>Then the light of day commencing <br> Found us at the gully's head, <br>Splitting timber for the fencing, <br> Stripping bark to roof the shed. <br>Hands and hearts the labour strengthened; <br> Weariness we never knew, <br>Even when the shadows lengthened <br> Round the base of Bukaroo. <br> <br>There for days below the paddock <br> How the wilderness would yield <br>To the spade, and pick, and mattock, <br> While we toiled to win the field. <br>Bronzed hands we used to sully <br> Till they were of darkest hue, <br>`Burning off' down in the gully <br> At the back of Bukaroo. <br> <br>When we came the baby brother <br> Left in haste his broken toys, <br>Shouted to the busy mother: <br> `Here is dadda and the boys!' <br>Strange it seems that she was able <br> For the work that she would do; <br>How she'd bustle round the table <br> In the hut 'neath Bukaroo! <br> <br>When the cows were safely yarded, <br> And the calves were in the pen, <br>All the cares of day discarded, <br> Closed we round the hut-fire then. <br>Rang the roof with boyish laughter <br> While the flames o'er-topped the flue; <br>Happy days remembered after -- <br> Far away from Bukaroo. <br> <br>But the years were full of changes, <br> And a sorrow found us there; <br>For our home amid the ranges <br> Was not safe from searching Care. <br>On he came, a silent creeper; <br> And another mountain threw <br>O'er our lives a shadow deeper <br> Than the shade of Bukaroo. <br> <br>All the farm is disappearing; <br> For the home has vanished now, <br>Mountain scrub has choked the clearing, <br> Hid the furrows of the plough. <br>Nearer still the scrub is creeping <br> Where the little garden grew; <br>And the old folks now are sleeping <br> At the foot of Bukaroo.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408679" data-title="Mount Bukaroo de Henry Lawson" data-description="Only one old post is standing -- Solid yet, but only one -- Where the milking, and the branding, And the slaughtering were done. Later years have brought dejection, Care, and sorrow; but we knew Happy days on that selection Underneath o..."></div> </div> </div>

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